


Powerless Against You

by calie15



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3228299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calie15/pseuds/calie15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky was strong, but it when it came to Jemma he was weak and powerless to turn away, not matter how much he feared what he was capable of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Powerless Against You

No memory. No past. No feeling. He was a machine and built for one thing only, to kill. He lifted his weapon, ignoring the people around, not caring. The only thing on his mind was the mission, the target, the kill. 

Nothing mattered. He cared for nothing. Just the mission.

That’s when he woke up, eyes snapping open in the darkness. Bucky sat up, sweating. The covers were smothering him, the heat was unbearable. He threw the blankets off and slid his legs over the side of the bed. After yanking his shirt off he started to stand until something touched his back, then he froze.

“Bucky?”

He’d forgotten. How had he forgotten Jemma was there. Her fingers were cool against his heated skin. He’d forgotten because she didn’t belong there, this wasn't normal, this wasn't a part of his routine.

‘You could just stay,’ Bucky had suggested as they had discussed his capability of making dinner and the promise of him purchasing two bottle of her favorite wine. She had been facing away from him and typing at a quickened pace. Then she had stopped and turned, a small smile growing over her face.

Bucky hadn’t realized then how much of a bad idea that would be. He hadn’t had a nightmare that severe in months. Now he was panicked, stripped of his shirt, the skin of his left shoulder exposed and twisted with scars. “Sorry,” he mumbled. For a moment he thought to reach for his shirt, but she grabbed his left arm and tugged. He winced in the darkness, glad that she couldn’t at least she couldn’t see the grotesque scar. 

Reluctantly, he laid back and stared up into the darkness. 

“What is it?” Jemma asked, her quiet voice breaking the silence.

Bucky could only shake his head, because he didn’t want to talk about it, he couldn’t. Bucky didn’t want to talk about the faces of his victims that he continued to recall. He didn't want to tell her one of his biggest fears was that some day someone would turn him into that cold blooded monster once again. Make it so that he was such a mindless machine that he might even put a gun to Jemma’s head and pull the trigger.

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about it, but if you ever want to…”

He didn't respond to the promise. In fact, Bucky didn’t need to hear her promise, he knew he could tell her, but still he didn’t want to talk about it. A small part of him knew that one day he would have to. Every day she got closer, every day he let her in more. It was either give in or push her away. And there were so many times he thought about pushing her away, so many. but when faced with her smile, her happy personality, the way she looked at him, Bucky knew he couldn’t turn away. There were so many ways that he was strong, but when it came to leaving her he was weak.

Things had been simple earlier that night. Bucky had shown her he could cook. You learned when you had nothing better to do and no friends. 

Jemma had sat in the kitchen with him, sipping her wine, laughing and smiling, cheeks flushed. She’d told him stories of her most recent work, things he didn’t even understand, but it didn’t matter, she was there.

Then she had crawled into his bed, a small smile on his face, and fallen asleep watching TV.

It had been so simple, so perfect. The truth was things would never be perfect with him, things would never be simple, and his nightmare was proof of that.

“You cooked dinner,” Jemma started and slid her hand down his real arm, grasping his hand, “may you can let me cook breakfast in the morning.”

Her words shouldn’t have made him hurt, but they did. They were so normal. His life would never be normal, and really hers wouldn’t be either. Yet Bucky ached for more, he needed more. He wanted to have a life where he could open a door and see Jemma’s smiling face, where he wasn’t lying in his bed by himself. 

Bucky released a shaky sigh and forced himself to relax and forget his nightmare and instead focus on her. He turned his head and looked into her face, which was lit just barely. “I’ve smelled your lab, I’m not convinced.”

Jemma gasped, propped her head on her hand, and pushed at his bare side. “You’ll let me put a needle through your skin but not feed you?”

“A needle I can handle, food poisoning though?” At that she slapped his stomach, and without thinking he grabbed her hand with his left one. He couldn’t feel her skin, and he hated that. He was ready to release it, but she scooted closer.

“So that’s how we take you down? Food poisoning?”

At that point he could see a smirk on her face. Her body was warm against his right arm and he found himself slipping it beneath her, wrapping it around her waste, and pulling her closer. Jemma came easily enough. “Maybe, but I think you would be more efficient.”

“At the food poisoning?” Jemma asked with a laugh.

Yet Bucky was all seriousness. “No, just you. I’m pretty weak when it comes to you.”

The hand in his cybernetic one tugged away and he released it, then he felt it on his cheek. “That’s not weakness,” she whispered in the dark. “Having people that you care about, that care about you, that makes you strong Bucky.” Then she smiled. “Besides, who wouldn’t become weak in the knees over a genius biochemist with a bubbly personality.”

He was relieved she’d switched gears for him. If he had been allowed to focus on her first words he would have been speechless. “Think much of yourself don’t you?” He asked and pulled her closer.

“I do,” Jemma said gently as she leaned in, “but I think a lot of you too.”

Her lips were on his before he had a chance to respond. Bucky wrapped his cybernetic arm around her waist and slid his real hand into her hair as he kissed her hard. He was going to fall in love with her, he knew it. He was powerless against her. He’d do anything for her. And lord help anyone that tried to take her from him.


End file.
